Sightless In A World Of Color
by EqualityDork
Summary: <html><head></head>Upon taking down "The Mad Scientist", John get's caught in the path of an acid meant for Sherlock and finds himself lost in the darkness. Sherlock/John</html>
1. Chapter 1

"This man is clinically insane- so John, be careful. I need you as back up but be sure to leave some distance." Sherlock explained, looking directly into John's eyes as they he did so, making sure the doctor understood.

John stared right back into ecstatic blue mixed with flecks of gold and green all assorted in the supposed sociopath's eyes.

John's lips twitched upwards into a grin, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. "I could say the same to you- about being careful, that is"

The tiniest of smiles quirked at the left corner of Sherlock's mouth, making John's own smile broaden at the sight. Smiles for the Holmes' brothers were both rare and fleeting.

A loud crash came from within the abandoned building they were leaning against, the noise echoing down the alleyway and into the streets.

Sherlock's eyes gleamed at the confirmation that this was, in fact, the hide out of the serial killer people were referring to as "The Mad Scientist". How he managed to narrow it down to this building simply off of the murderers last concoction of deadly poison's John would never know.

Scratch that, he _will_ most definitely find out when Anderson shows up asking how Sherlock could possibly know the murderers location- unless he of course were an accomplice. Anderson did love to try and pin murders on Sherlock.

"The game is on!" Sherlock suddenly whisper-shouted, not bothering to hide his childish joy as he flung the rusty door open and ran inside.

John followed closely behind, yet still giving Sherlock enough space to get ahead, as previously ordered. Soon enough, Sherlock turned a corner into a dimly lit room and John fell back, slowly creeping up to the door frame with his gun in hand- a precaution in case things were to get out of control.

"Did you know they're calling you "The Mad Scientist" out there?" Sherlock's voice suddenly boomed throughout the empty building, catching John off guard as he listened for any signs of trouble.

"That was a rhetorical question so don't bother answering- of course you didn't. You can't even read judging from your eyes. The scar tissue gathering around them is quite revolting- the main reason your wife left you of course. Well, that and your slowly consuming insanity she obviously didn't want to get wrapped up in."

Furrowing his eyebrows, John peaked into the dim room, surprised to find that the man surrounded by scientific equipment was _undoubtedly_ blind.

"Experiment gone wrong, I take it? You were clearly a scientist working under the government, specifying in acids and poisons. Still, I hate to admit it but I'm not entirely certain why you've decided to go on a killing spree- it's not like you're dying anytime soon." Sherlock continued, inching closer to the blind man still fiddling with elements at his desk.

"Someone like you can't possibly imagine what it's like to lose your sight, it's-"

"Dark, obviously." Sherlock cut in, shooting John, who was still peering in through the open doorway, and unimpressed glance, clearly wanting to wrap this up now that he'd solved the puzzle- all that was left was _why_.

"The dark is consuming, detective, it eats you alive- worse than death-"

"Then why not just kill yourself?" The consulting detective asked heartlessly, leaving John to almost pity the murderer- almost. He was a _murderer_ after all.

"I thought about it. Everyday, for three months, I thought about it. Why not? There's no one to miss me... Yet, I held on, day after day, telling myself that _things_ would get _BETTER!_" The man finished with a loud yell, his voice shrill and off pitch.

Sherlock tilted his head ever so slightly as he instead focused on what, exactly, the scientist was mixing together in that test tube of his and whether or not it was going to kill them all.

"But they didn't..." The man continued, "They didn't get better. And _no one CARED_. No one. People don't care about the needy until they become one of them. So, that's what I did... I made _them_ needy scum, just like me"

Sherlock promptly scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Only if by needy you mean in need of an ambulance. Injuring yourself at work doesn't give you the right to poison water pipes and burn people's throats from the inside out. Sherlock's baritone voice stated dully.

The blind scientist clenched his jaw and stopped stirring the test tube he had previously been working on.

From a distance, John noticed the tiny, almost invisible, braille labels on each of the vials and gave himself a small pat on the back for making an observation of his own. It wasn't much, but he was learning.

"You don't understand, detective."

"Clearly."

"But you will"  
>John's eyes widened as he noticed the scientist's hand holding the test tube clench, giving the doctor just enough time to run up and shove Sherlock out of the way before it's contents flung across the room and flew at John, just above eye level.<p>

At first, nothing happened as a strange liquid slid down John's face, then, however, the liquid quickly sizzled into a vapor and next thing he knew John was on the ground in fetal position, his hands clutching at his eyes as they burned intolerably until finally his body gave up and shut down, unable to withstand the pain.

**-0.0-**

**A/N: What do you guys think? Worth continuing or nahh? I was working on my other story and this came to mind and wouldn't let me work on the other one until I wrote it out. Jeez, sometimes I'm so simple minded *sigh* Anyone reading the other story I promise it'll be updated either today or tomorrow! Almost done with the next chapter! **

**BTW Other story is Purple Milk, have a lovely day everyone! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Warning! Hospital awkwardness **

**-0.0-**

"There has to be _something_ you can do." A familiar baritone's voice rung out through what John could only assume was the hospital given the beeping of his heart monitor and sanitary scent that wafted through the room as the doctor jolted into consciousness.

"Sssslock... Sherlock?" John mumbled, blinking his eyes in the darkness and frowning when they refused to adjust.

"John" Sherlock breathed, followed by the sound of ruffling next to John- why the hell was it so dark? Power outage? It would have to be all of _bloody London_ for it to be _this_ dark- not to mention curtains drawn and no sunlight to speak of.

An achy pain bit at his face, no doubt dulled by aesthetics.

"Sherlock? Why is it to dark in here?" John asked, impatiently lifting his hand to reach for his face, drifting his finger tips slowly across skin until they stopped upon reaching cloth that was wrapped around his eyes and bridge of his nose.

"Sherlock?" John asked again, this time a little panicked as he felt the bandaging to up to his mid forehead. If the lights were switched on, he would at least be able to see a little light seeping through- so why was it so dark?

"John... do you remember what happened?" Sherlock asked, as usual completely ignoring John's question in favor of his own.

John sighed and dropped his hand back down to his side, thinking back to what he last remember.

"Yes, well, I remember being bitch slapped by acid if that's what you mean. After that I think I... blacked out? Yeah, I'm pretty sure I blacked out"

"Dr. Watson, I'm your surgeon, Dr. Leonard." An unrecognizable voice called from where John assumed to be the front of the bed.

"Ah, yes, Doctor. How bad is it?" John inquired, wanting to stop wasting time and get straight to the point- trajectory recovery time and possible surgery, if more was needed.

"John, we should wait until after you've reste-"

"No, Sherlock. I'm well rested and just want to get these bandages off and go home. What is it, some nasty scarring?" John questioned, his voice drowning with irritation and fucking _hell_, why was it so _dark_?

"Dr. Watson, I'll be blunt with you. The acid was triggered by sweat, which then turned the chemical into a vapor which rose and needless to say, targeted specifically the construct of your eyes. The acid seeped into your retina and has damaged them beyond repair. I'm sorry, but you will never see again.. You're permanently blind, Dr. Watson."

The ex-army doctor felt his heart sink in his chest, just like a rock tossed in a lake, never to be fished out.

"Blind..." John repeated dumbly, the darkness suddenly feeling oddly suffocating.

"As for your tissue recovery time, you can leave the hospital as early as two days from now. There shouldn't be much scarring, however we do expect a slight glaze over the iris. Bandages will be removed in about a wee-"

"Get out." Sherlock muttered to the surgeon, his eyes focused on John despite all his venom being sent to the practitioner who had been rattling nonsense since they got there.

"E-excuse me?" The surgeon asked, frazzled by the detective's sudden outburst.

"Are you really that incompetent that you couldn't hear me the first time? Get. Out." Sherlock practically growled. A second later John could hear the door open and close.

"Sherlock, that was rude"

"He deserved it."

"And why is that?"

Sherlock didn't respond, instead he stiffened and simply looked down at the man he knew would never be able to look back again, the sound of the heart monitor going off in the background as neither spoke up for several minutes.

"..How are you feeling?" Sherlock suddenly asked, breaking their silence as he rested his hand on John's shoulder awkwardly, glad when John didn't flinch or pull away.

Instead, John sighed. "I've been better. How about you? What happened after I passed out? You're not hurt, are you?" John asked quickly, suddenly worried that perhaps Sherlock was also injured and avoiding treatment like he so often did- that was part of John's job.

_Was_...

"Calm down, John, I'm perfectly fine.. After you-... After you saved me the police showed up, you were hospitalized, and "The Mad Scientist" was thrown in prison with a few too little bruises for my liking."

John couldn't help the giggles; of course Sherlock took a few swings at the douche bag. He's not as sociopathic as everyone seems to think.

John felt the grip on his shoulder tighten and immediately stopped his giggling- worry building up in his chest.

"Sherlock..? Are you sure you're alright...?"

Said detective took a sharp breath, as if preparing himself for something.

"John.. what do you want to do... about this?" He asked quietly.

Silently, John bit his tongue and took a moment to go over his options. Drive himself insane like "The Mad Scientist"? Go somewhere secluded and shoot his head off? Let Mycroft send him off to some ridiculously expensive institution?

None of his options seemed all that appealing...

Before John could come up with any more options, Sherlock began to speak again- rapidly.

"I know I'm not particularly fit to take care of another human being, however that option is certainly my preference. Otherwise, as much as I detest the idea we could hire a nanny to come in and help you- dull. Hat a dull life style- of a nanny, taking care of people they don't know. Boring. Of course there's always the option of moving to a more sightless-friendly location but I doubt either of us would last a week around all of those boring blind people. In places like that everyone seems to think they can't do anything simply because they can't see- clearly they have no imagination."

John was speechless.

Completely, utterly out of words.

He hung his mouth open, trying desperately to think of something to say until the familiar baritone rung out again.

"John? John, are you even listening to me? We need to plan out our course of action- we're going home in two days, after all."

John felt his heart lift, just a little, at Sherlock's words. It as obvious the detective had no idea they were of any significance- he as simply rattling his thoughts, after all- but to John they meant the world.

"We...?" John whispered, quietly, his voice cracking.

"Obviously." Sherlock rolled his eyes, knowing John would be able to tell he was doing it whether he could see or not- this was _John_, after all.

Sherlock removed his hand from the ex-army doctor's shoulder, completely unaware as to how the cold darkness immediately consumed the shorter man, making him short of breath.

The sudden feeling of being left alone in the darkness was suffocating, so John did the only thing he could think of- he reached out for Sherlock, only to have his hand collide with thick curly hair.

"John, if you wanted to see me you could have just said so instead of nearly punching me in the face" Sherlock grumbled as icy fingers wrapped around John's wrist, holding his hand to the consulting detective's hair as the taller man pulled over a chair with his foot and sat down.

Meanwhile John tried his best not to smile as he suddenly found himself with his hand entangled in Sherlock's hair, icy fingers gone now that he had stopped moving around.

"Oh do please take your time" Sherlock sneered sarcastically, his left hand tapping impatiently on the arm rest of the uncomfortable hospital chair.

John grinned.

"Why thank you, I will"

The tapping stopped and a short baritone chuckle filled the air.

As if instinctively, John's hand trailed over to Sherlock's currently twitched upward mouth. He felt as Sherlock's lips sank back into their usual position under his finger tips and the doctor smiled in relief.

At least he could still see in some way or another, even if he was fairly certain this was mostly used in movies as opposed to real life.

His hand slowly ran over bow shaped lips, then across Sherlock's chin, up to his angular cheek bones, his nose, his eyes, eyebrows, hair line, and finally through thick locks of curly hair.

John retracted his hand, the image of a certain detective's face plastered to his mind.

John coughed awkwardly, clearing his throat.

"Right, thank you.."

"Anytime"

John huffed and crossed his arms, thinking of what was to come.

"I want to stay at Baker street with you.. at least for now, anyway.." John confessed, wanting to be somewhere familiar.

"Baker street it is! We shall leave immediately" Sherlock shouted gleefully, jumping out of his chair enthusiastically.

"Wait, wait, wait! You heard the doctor, I still have to stay here for the next two days." John grumbled, knowing it was best to wait despite his body telling him to get up and run around- to be consumed by danger and break some rules- to be flooded with adrenaline in his need for a distraction from the expanse of nothing in his nonexistent vision.

"Dull." Sherlock groaned, footsteps echoing as he stepped back over to the chair and plopped down.

"Yes, well, somethings take time and patience."

"Boring."

"Then leave- you don't have to wait here with me, Sherlock" John pointed out with a huff as he leaned further into his pillows in an attempt to get more comfortable in the hospital bed- he was stuck there for a while, after all.

What followed, however, was silence. That of which caught the ex-army doctor off guard as he waited in the dark for a response he seemingly wasn't getting.

"Hello?" He asked, unsure of what else to do considering he had absolutely no idea what kind of facial expression Sherlock was making at the moment- or if the detective had somehow managed to slip out the door without him knowing.

"That's out of the question." Sherlock finally piped up, shuffling in a way that sounded to John as if he were trying to make himself comfortable.

"You don't need to baby sit me, Sherlock, I'm completely capable of taking care of myself and even if I weren't, there's plenty of staff around to help me. Go, help out Lestrade with a new murder or something so you don't kill us both in a wave of boredom or something" John explained, honestly worried Sherlock would potentially get them killed- probably murdered by the nurses- if Sherlock decided to stay in the hospital for any long extension of time.

"No, you're stuck with me for a while- I'm not leaving you here alone in such a boring place" Sherlock hissed through John's newly darkened world.

A flutter echoed through John's heart as he shut his mouth and let the silence fill his bitch black vision, which, in spite of being surrounded by an expanse of nothing, John suddenly found completely tolerable as he listened to the breathing of his flat mate beside him. Not quite so lonely in the darkness, it would seem...

-0.0-

Two days came and went, which, thankfully to Sherlock, John, and everyone else who was stuck at the hospital for one reason or another, meant it was John's release date.

Sherlock sat in his visitor's chair, tapping away with his fingers on the arm rest as he stared intensely at the nurse currently taking John's vital signs to make sure he was healthy enough to be taken home. She glanced over at the detective wearily and then wrote down a quick note on her chart.

"Alright, Dr. Watson, you're free to leave whenever you feel ready" The nurse informed the doctor despite skill looking cautiously over at Sherlock, ready for him to bring up her drinking habits again at any second.

"Thanks so much" John boomed with a smile, clearly happy to be discharged.

"John-"

"Sherlock. No. I already told you, no more deductions until we leave the hospital."

"But John-"

"No."

Sherlock let out a dramatic groan and fell back into his chair in defeat while the nurse quickly made her escape.

"Her husband is having an affair." Sherlock hissed in aggravation, annoyed at having not been able to rant off his deductions.

"Yes, well, I get the feeling she already knew that" John sighed as he slowly maneuvered himself over to the edge of the bed, careful to let his feet touch the ground before attempting to stand.

"What? How could you possibly know that?" Sherlock snapped quickly as he wrapped his arm around John's waist and guided him to the bathroom where his street clothes were waiting for him on the sink's counter.

"Well, as you wonderfully deduced for me, she has a drinking problem" John began, thankful when Sherlock guided his hand to his clothing that was folded neatly on the sink.

"Yes"

"So, why? Why would she be drinking and then walking about like she had a cloud hanging over her head? Surely she would be trying to hide it if her husband didn't know- and if he did, well... it would only make sense that they were having problems at home." John pointed out as he plucked the shirt off of the top of the pile and unfolded it.

"Circumstantial" Sherlock sniffed, followed by shifting to behind John where he then loosened the hospital gown.

"What- hey! Sherlock- out." John demanded, his face flushed a soft red as he spun around to face the detective despite not being entirely sure if he was facing Sherlock head on or not, so instead of looking up to Sherlock's eye level he kept his head down so as to not completely look helpless if he were wrong.

"Don't be such a drama queen- I'm helping you change" Sherlock deadpanned as he pulled the shirt out of John's grip.

"Oh, no. No, no ,no- Sherlock. You are _not_ going to dress me, do you understand? And by the way _you're_ the drama queen here, not me." John protested, crossing his arms since he couldn't really do much else without knowing where Sherlock was holding his confiscated clothing.

"John, don't be so obtuse- you know how this is going to play out. You're _blind_, John. If we stay at Baker Street I'm going to be the one helping you bathe, walk up stairs, change, everything, until you learn how to do these things on your own without sight. Please, John, just let me help you until you get used to it, I don't want you getting hurt" Sherlock said oddly sincerely while John backed into a wall with a huff. He knew it was inevitable. Which was worse? Getting changed by Sherlock or getting changed by Sherlock after face planting the bathroom tiles in an attempt to pull pants on?

"You do realize how humiliating this is for me?" John asked, needing confirmation that Sherlock wasn't completely socially inept.

"I can understand that this may be.. awkward, yes" Sherlock confirmed.

"Good... good, then lets..." John made a vague hand gesture, which Sherlock took as a go ahead and slowly reached up to grab the hospital gown's material currently wrapped around John's shoulders.

John forced himself still as he felt the material slide off of him and awkwardly moved his arms in an attempt to cover himself when it was removed.

Quickly, however, his arms were carefully pushed through a soft cotton material, followed by his head and suddenly he was wearing the loose cotton t-shirt Mrs. Hudson had brought over for him. There, not quite as bad as he had thought it would be.

A sudden brush of something soft against John's upper thigh brought the doctor back to his sinking awkward feeling as he realized it was Sherlock's hair. "Right, well, maybe we _should_ hire a nanny- or something" John decided as Sherlock grabbed his hands and placed them on the consulting detective's shoulders.

"Lift your right foot" Sherlock instructed, completely ignoring John's comment as he slid both boxers and jeans onto his right leg at once. "Good- next"

After pulling on the boxers and jeans, Sherlock zipped and buttoned John up before lacing the belt around the doctor's waist- followed by helping him ith a pair of socks and shoes.

"There- all done. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Sherlock declared as he looked John up and down, that of whom had his mouth in a straight, flat line.

"John?"

"Can we just... not talk about this? People would definitely start to talk.."

Sherlock sniffed and looked away, deciding to open the bathroom door to occupy his hands as he replied, "Umm.. yes, we don't have to... uhh... right, let's be off then, shall we?"

John nodded and reached out his hand which Sherlock promptly grabbed with his own.

Needless to say, people cheered as they left through the front doors, which made John giggle and Sherlock scoff, followed by informing the man entering the hospital through the door beside them that he was, in fact, experiencing a heart attack. The man wasn't too pleased with this information.

**-0.0-**

**A/N: Well! That's that! Awkward hospital scenes should be done for a while! Hope you liked it! I'll post the next chapter as soon as I'm done writing it, of course~ Reviews are awesome- especially if you have any ideas you might want to be thrown in here like a certain situation to happen or whatever- ideas are welcome! Tootles~**


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